


The Marauders, Holmes and Me

by JadedCauldron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hogwarts, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadedCauldron/pseuds/JadedCauldron
Summary: "Of course he knows the password," I groaned, putting a palm to my face, "He must've used some sort of secret revealing charm or something.""Don't be dull, John," Sherlock replied, dropping his hands and pulling out his wand, "There's only a need to brandish this on serious occasions. I don't need to use magic for something so basic." Wrote this as One-Shot. Might extend.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Marauders, Holmes and Me

"You're late."

Behind me, I could hear Peter let out a yelp of surprise and then a loud heavy thud. He must've tripped over the hem of his robes.

"Oof!"

The sound of Remus' grunt meant that Peter had taken down at least one. Then I felt James and Sirius practically breathing down my neck. They were craning their own so that they can see over my shoulder to our intruder. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to three before I faced the music. Or rather, the Ravenclaw I had unfortunately made a good impression on in Transfigurations.

"You'll have to excuse me, given that this is my bedroom that is in _Gryffindor_ tower," I said through clenched teeth as I watched him sit on my bed and lazily thumb through a book that I had an inkling belonged in the restricted section, "And that I have no recollection whatsoever of making an appointment with you, so please, tell me how exactly am I late?"

He closed the book sharply with one hand and then finally looked up at me. The pressure his top lip was exerting to the bottom should've tipped me off that he was about to unleash his tirade but I didn't notice. I was too busy gaping at the opened boxes of Chocolate Frogs that laid strewn on top of my covers among cards and blotchy chocolate stains.

"Did you eat my Chocolate Frogs?" I exclaimed, "Did you take them from my stash?!"

In one fluid motion, he was on his feet with the book tucked under his arm. He pressed his fingers together as if he was the one who needed to control his temper. "John," he said with a tone one usually reserved for talking to a child on the brink of a tantrum, "You have a penchant to eat dinner right up until the plates are cleared. It takes exactly 23 minutes to get from the Great Hall to your common room, 28 if you forget that the stairwell from the north hall likes to switch whenever there's an even amount of students climbing it...32 if Peeves doesn't succeed in locking Filch in a hidden room and needs an outlet to sulk. With that in mind, it has taken you 38 minutes to get from dinner to your room. So...to answer your first question...You are late."

He looked at me exasperatedly and I tried to tell myself that even if I can never understand the confounding mind of Sherlock Holmes, I could at least find solace in that we were sharing the same sentiment. Too bad it was towards one another.

"Brilliant," James breathed.

"Don't," I said tersely, "You'll only just encourage him."

"Now, for your inquiry about your inventory of confections," Sherlock announced.

"Too late," Sirius chirped and I could definitely feel him nudge James with his elbow behind my back.

"I did not eat your Chocolate Frogs because I find it too sweetening, having an affinity to dark chocolate myself. They are better for your health and they release more endorphins. Thus is a better stress reliever than the sugary stuff. However, I did need to open your frogs because I am looking for a specific card. A card of Grinwelda Punribbage and I, unfortunately, did not have it amongst my recent Hogsmeade purchases so I thought I might as well look in yours since I'm coming here anyway."

"How did you even get into the tower?" Remus asked. He must've gotten to his feet now because he was practically shouting in my ear, "You have to know the password."

"Of course he knows the password," I groaned, putting a palm to my face, "He must've used some sort of secret revealing charm or something."

"Don't be dull, John," Sherlock replied, dropping his hands and pulling out his wand, "There's only a need to brandish this on serious occasions. I don't need to use magic for something so basic."

"Then how'd you do it?" Peter asked, poking his head from between my legs. He didn't even bother getting up. He would rather stay on the floor and get a good view than miss out on this scene.

"I merely had to look at the top of this week's entry of Mary Macdonald's school diary. She takes note of every assignment, exam, and password change," Sherlock said and then his eyes flicked down to Peter, "You need to get a move on for your essay about magic during the Dark Ages, by the way. What you have now is nowhere near complete and quite pitiful. It would be astounding if Binns gives you a passing grade."

"Wicked," James breathed.

"Remus next! Go on! What can you tell us about him? Are his notes for DADA any good? Because I'm going to need them to pass!" Sirius said excitedly, shoving Remus past all of us and into our shared bedroom.

"No thank you, Sherlock," Remus huffed, straightening his robes and glaring at Sirius, "And your hands seem strong enough to pick up a quill. I suggest you take your own notes."

"Naw. Don't want to get my hands all...inky," Sirius said. I didn't have to turn around to know that he was smiling in that lazy, relaxed way of his. Remus was going to end up giving Sirius the notes. We all knew it. Didn't need to have a Sherlock brain to figure that out.

Sherlock seemed to know it too because he said nothing. Merely lifted a brow ever so slightly at Remus and then returned his focus on his victim. Me.

"Okay," I sighed. If sitting through six years of Transfigurations with him had taught me anything, it was to just let Sherlock get it all out of his system. Trying to stop him was like trying to use a cork to stop a waterfall, "I'll bite. Why are you here and what do you need me for?" I saw his eyes flit to the litter on my bed. "Besides the Chocolate Frogs, Sherlock. What are you here for? Really."

He opened his mouth and then he shut it. His eyes closed as if trying to read my mind. Immediately, I took a step back. We had just started learning about Legilimency in DADA. Maybe he _was_ trying to read my mind.

"Sherlock," I said warningly.

His eyes returned to its normal state and he scoffed. "Like I would need to use magic to read you, John. The only thing I'd find in the deepest crevice of your psyche is most likely a strong desire to transfigure Avery into a footstool for embarrassing you in front of Marlene Mackinnon last week or the fear that you will fail all your exams. I was merely trying to figure out how to explain this to you without mentioning the Chocolate Frogs."

"Why?" I asked, not even bother arguing with him about trivializing my 16-year-old existence. It would be like playing a violin to a Hippogriff, "What does Chocolate Frogs have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything!" Sherlock said and threw his arms out for emphasis, "Don't you see?"

I can hear my roommates behind me shaking with laughter, revelling in my misery. Even Remus was biting his lip and looking out the window, avoiding any eye contact.

"No! I don't!" I shouted and I marched to my bed, the scene of a crime, "And I don't appreciate you breaking into my room and stealing my things. I have half a mind to tell Flitwick about your behavior."

"Oh, if I was in trouble, Remus would already have told me so," Sherlock said waving his hand dismissively at the Gryffindor Prefect, "Right?"

Remus looked like he was in danger of biting his mouth clean off. I could see a single tear struggling to leak out of the corner of an eye. "A...A friend of John's is a friend of ours."

"He's not my friend!" I roar.

"Now there's no need to be Mr. Grumpyface," James teased as he went over to me and threw his arm over my shoulder. He used the end of my scarf to tickle my chin with it's fringes, "You should be happy that someone is putting in so much effort to be with you. Imagine if that was Marlene...I bet you'd be pretty chuffed."

"Potter," I hissed and knocked his hand away.

"Oh, we're doing surnames now," James said with a grin and trotted off to his bed, which was next to me. He gave a mocking bow towards Sirius, "Mr. Black."

Of course his partner in crime immediately got into the game. "Mr. Lupin," he said, bowing to the Prefect, who was grinning from ear to ear. He turned to Peter. "Mr. Petti-"

"Alright! Enough!" I shout before I could lose complete control of my sanity, "Sherlock. Explain and be as brief as possible."

"Very well," Sherlock said and leaned up against the wall where Sirius had hung up a poster of a bikini-clad supermodel. It was a Muggle poster and didn't move so it looked like there was a girl standing on the shoulders of this young brilliant mind. It sent the other boys into another round of laughter but I was not amused. I just wanted to get this all over with.

"Morinagan is about to kill a student and I need your help to stop her."

"What?!"

The laughter died as if a Dementor had appeared right at that moment. I recovered faster than the rest of them. I had developed a higher tolerance for Sherlock's revelations.

"Professor Morinagan...our Alchemy professor is about to kill a student," I said slowly, "How do you know? Do you have any evidence of this?"

"None so far that I can go to Dumbledore with which is why I need your talents for Transfiguration and your roommates' map. We are only a few weeks off from a full moon so it's fine to take. They won't be needing it. Not for that 'Furry Little Problem' anyway."

The boys gaped at Sherlock, finally seeing him for what he was. A serious person with a serious knack of spotting the truth, no matter how terrible or well hidden it was.

"Okay," I said, "What do you need me to Transfigure?"

"You cannot be serious!" Remus exclaimed and then pointed in Sirius and James' direction without looking at them, "If either of you makes a joke about Sirius' name right now, I will curse the both of you."

Sirius raised his hands in surrender but said nothing while James just shrugged.

I looked solemnly at Remus. Yes, Sherlock Holmes was not of the right mind in the normal sense but it also happened to be a mind that was, unfortunately, always right. Now it was just a matter of whether or not if he'll let us in on his thought process. "Let's get all the facts out first," I said and then turned back to Sherlock, "How is Professor Morinagan planning on killing a student?"

"Well, she's not planning on it. She's just going to-"

"Semantics, Sherlock," I said, "Just tell us what is happening."

"She has created an elixir to help rid Aikaterine Trent of her blood curse. It is a milder version of the Elixir of Life as Professor Morinagan, as adequate as she is in teaching Alchemy, is nowhere near perfecting the art of alchemy and creating a Sorcerer's Stone," Sherlock explained.

"And you know the elixir won't work?" I asked.

"I'm sure of it," Sherlock said, "She has made a mistake while creating the elixir and instead of curing Aikaterine Trent, she will send that second year into an early grave."

"Why don't you tell her then? Tell her not to give Aikaterine the elixir," Remus said.

"She's not going to listen and if I tell the other professors, they won't believe me because I'm not supposed to know about any of this," Sherlock replied with a certain sting to his voice that made me believe he had already tried but was refuted.

"Were you there when she created the elixir?" Peter asked quietly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Of course not or else I wouldn't be here trying to stop her. Now, we must be off."

"We?" I asked.

Sherlock's exasperation towards me had returned. "Unless you've mastered how to Transfigure something remotely, then I guess it would just be me going."

"Oh. We are definitely coming too," James said.

Judging by Sherlock's expression, I guessed he was determining which of the hundred ways they could get in the way would be the best one to share. Sirius must have reached the same conclusion because he pulled out the map from inside his robe and waved it in Sherlock's face.

"We're the only ones who can work the map, mate," Sirius said, "I'm afraid you're stuck with us."

"But John-" Sherlock started to protest and I shrugged. I didn't know how Sherlock found out about the map but he clearly didn't discover everything.

"I contributed nothing to it so I thought it was only right my name get left off of it. Credit can only be given where credit is due."

"That and we haven't found a good nickname for you yet," Remus quipped.

"Oh. If only I had a camera," Sirius said as he angled his hands in front of Sherlock's thunderstruck face, "When Ravenclaw's own Sherlock Holmes discovered he missed something."

Sherlock glared at Sirius, who blew him a kiss and sauntered over to me.

"After all that time being desk buddies with John, you never realized that he was sorted into Gryffindor because of his chivalry?" Sirius said with a bit of pride.

Sherlock was about to say something when Remus grabbed the map right out of Sirius' hands.

"Come on, we don't have time to waste. A life is at stake. We can quibble about who, what, and why later. Let's focus on where and when! Sherlock, where are we going?" Remus asked. He pointed his wand at the map, muttered the key phrase in one breath, and then opened it up for Sherlock to see.

Exactly 37 minutes later, we found ourselves in the Alchemy classroom, waiting for Professor Morinagan to arrive. James hid behind a heavy curtain, Sirius had crammed himself in a cabinet, Remus somehow managed to get himself inside a suit of armor without making much noise, and Peter was crouched beneath her old, worn desk. I, unfortunately, was out in the open sitting right on top of the desk with Sherlock next to me. It was all part of his plan, which he told us on our way here. I just prayed for my academic career and Aikaterine's life that he was right.

We heard footsteps coming down the corridor and then a distinct sound of sniffling. The door opened and the torches around the room lit up immediately, illuminating my presence to Professor Morinagan and, to my surprise, Professor Dumbledore.

Given that the curtain shifted and the suit of armor rattled slightly, it was obvious that James and Remus was taken aback as well. We were expecting Aikaterine.

"J-John Watson. What are you doing out of your dormitory at this hour?" Professor Morinagan exclaimed, clutching a parcel to her chest, "You are a 6th year and should know better! Ten points from Gryffindor! "

"Professor Morinagan," I said slowly, kicking myself for not asking Sherlock more questions. Of course he didn't leave out a pertinent detail. Dumbledore would be here, "I'm here because of Sherlock."

"Sherlock Holmes?" Professor Morinagan asked with a huff, tightening her grip on the parcel and turning to Dumbledore, "That boy has been hounding me all month, questioning my methods and doubting my abilities. I would kick him out of my class if he wasn't receiving top marks on it. You must do something about him, really!"

Professor Dumbledore raised a hand and he looked at me through the half-moon spectacles perched on his nose. "What is it that you need, Mr. Watson?"

I licked my lips nervously. "I-I'm sorry, Professor Morinagan, but I'm going to be needing that," I said as I pulled out my wand and pointed it at her. She immediately flinched, loosening her grip, "Accio parcel!"

The parcel zoomed into my hands and I immediately set my wand down at the desk, ripped open the parcel's brown parchment and pulled out a small vial filled with a scarlet liquid. I quickly unsealed it and poured it into the wooden goblet on my desk. Before anyone could stop me and before I could lose my nerve, I took the goblet and downed the entire contents.

"NO!" Professor Morinagan ran towards me.

The goblet slipped from my fingers and clattered to the ground. My hand went to my throat, which was burning something horrible. My other hand knocked my wand to the floor. I felt like I had downed the bathroom cleaning fluid I've seen my Squib aunt use from time to time. I was gasping for breath when the professor and Aikaterine reached me.

"What did you do, you stupid boy?!" Professor Morinagan screamed.

"I..can't...breathe," I wheezed and then I collapsed as well.

Professor Morinagan let out another scream. "Oh no! I've killed him! Sherlock was right. I did get it wrong."

I weakly collected my wand and pointed at the goblet that was resting in front of my eyes. "Revelio."

Instantly, the goblet morphed back into Sherlock Holmes and he looked around at the scene, collecting as much data as possible, I imagine, before stopping his eyes at our Headmaster. "Was I right? Did she admit it? John, stop your theatrics and get back on your feet. You look pathetic."

I glared at him from my prone state. A little tingly sensation my arse. The next time Sherlock involves me in his plans, I'm going to strangle every last detail out of him with my bare hands. A wand would be too kind.

"Indeed, it was as you said, Mr. Holmes..." Dumbledore said, walking smoothly towards us. Professor Morinagan's legs gave out and she looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.

Dumbledore ignored a contented Sherlock, who was now looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time. The headmaster crouched down to a person who truly deserved his attention. "I am so sorry, Ida," he said to Professor Morinagan, taking her hands into his own and patting them gently, "I know how hard it has been since your husband has gone missing. Your grief and worry has taken a toll on your work, I'm afraid. I must insist that you take some time for yourself."

"Y-You're not going to fire me? Turn me into the Ministry?" Professor Morinagan gasped.

"For what, my dear?"

"For killing a student!" she said and then I saw her finger point in my direction.

"D-Don't worry about me. I'm alright," I wheezed and she looked absolutely flummoxed.

"It seems you have forgotten that a minor Elixir of Life, no matter how poorly made, must not touch anything living before ingesting or else it loses its most potent components," Dumbledore said and then casted an amused look over at Sherlock, who was now sitting at a desk in the front row and examining a few ingredients left behind from the last class of the day, "Even if that living being was Transfigured into an object."

He then looked straight down at me. "An excellent Human Transfiguration, I must say. Takes a solid understanding of the human body. It's far beyond the skills found in a sixth year. I shall tell Professor McGonagall of your achievement. 10 points for Gryffindor."

"Thanks," I croaked.

"B-But my work," Professor Morinagan sobbed, "I have nothing left but my work. If I stop working all I think about it is Artemis and the danger he is in...The attacks on Muggle-borns...I...I can't-."

"I assure you, I am doing all I can to find your husband and once we do, he will be safe here," Dumbledore said, "He is as much a part of Hogwarts as you and I."

"I-I'm so sorry, Albus," Professor Morinagan cried and wept into his robes. He rubbed her back soothingly but casted an amused look around the room.

"You can come out now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew."

Peter was the first one to come out of his hiding place while the others took a second to reveal themselves. They all looked sheepishly at Professor Dumbledore while Sherlock gave an annoyed look as if to say, I couldn't keep them away.

I had finally found the strength to sit up on the floor. I didn't want to try standing just yet and I had a sneaking suspicion that my voice would be raspy for days. Still, I decided to risk preserving my vocal chords.

"You knew?" I asked Professor Dumbledore.

He chuckled. "Yes. Mr. Holmes was quite...persistent in his discovery. He knew something was troubling Professor Morinagan and it was interfering with her work. He-"

"If you noticed in our recent classes," Sherlock said as he got up from his chair and started to pace up and down the tables as if to lecture invisible students, "Professor Morinagan's robes are more wrinkled than usual, especially in the area around her thighs, as if she has been clutching it and squeezing it during times of duress. She has also taken to rotating the wedding ring around her finger during long moments of silence when we are off doing our own calculations or taking an exam. Her husband, Mr. Morinagan was in the newspaper four weeks ago that declared him a Muggle Rights Activist. It all made sense, given the current...climate. I-"

"That will be all, Mr. Holmes," Professor Dumbledore said gently when Professor Morinagan let out another harsh sob, "Mr. Pettigrew and Mr. Lupin, will you help Professor Morinagan to my office? Ida, I believe there is a strong pot of tea waiting for you there. I will join you shortly."

Remus and Pettigrew, supporting Professor Morinagan on each side, helped her out of the room but not before shooting James, Sirius, and I look that we all knew to mean that if we didn't tell them exactly what they had missed, we would be in for it.

When they left, Professor Dumbledore got up to his feet and then helped me to mine. At this point, Sherlock was now fascinated by a shelf of jarred creatures, floating in translucent silvery liquid.

"When he tried to tell Professor Morinagan, she became quite defensive and instead of deterring her, she became more determined to help Miss Trent. Sherlock came to me and I understood immediately that she needed a more delicate approach."

"This is delicate?" I asked, gesturing to my throat.

"I did not expect you to drink it," Professor Dumbledore chuckled, "I had suggested to Mr. Holmes to ask for your assistance because I thought that you would be able to convince Professor Morinagan to see the error in her ways without action...You have a gift of reaching people who are…"

He trailed off and I followed his gaze to Sherlock, who was tapping at the jars.

"Extremely pig-headed?" I asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Your words, not mine."

"Then what about Aikaterine Trent?" James asked, "Is she going to be alright?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Her blood curse is mild and curable with the right elixir. I shall oversee the brewing of it myself this time. She need only to wait another month."

Both James and Sirius looked relieved at the news.

"Well, now that it has all been settled, I believe I have some holidays and leave to plan out with Professor Morinagan. Please return to your dormitories, gentlemen. Mr. Holmes, I trust you will be going to your own...and 10 points for Ravenclaw for another accurate deduction," Dumbledore said, making his way to the door.

Sherlock flicked his hand towards Dumbledore, as if swatting away the points. He never placed much emphasis on House Points. He never saw the point of rewarding people for getting something right and he found the entire process ridiculous. As he put it during our first shared Transfiguration class, "If they actually based it on when people get things wrong and when people get things right, then each House will always be in the negative."

When Dumbledore left the room, James and Sirius looked at me with dung eating grins on their faces.

I blinked. I was not in the joke. "What?"

"John Watson, the Transfigurator. Good nickname, Sirius?," James asked.

"Sounds like some sort of device. How about Croaky?" Sirius asked.

I groaned. "Sod off."

I was feeling a migraine coming on. It was overdue given the circumstances really and by the look on my roommates' faces, I knew that they were going to milk this for at least a week. I pushed past them, ignoring their snickering, and made my way out of the classroom.

"Oh! Before I forget, John..."

My mind was telling me to keep walking but my feet came to a halt right at the door. I braced myself. "Yes, Sherlock?"

"Grinwelda Punribbage was the first wizard or witch to ever successfully Transfigure a human into an object and then return it to normal. She's your great-great aunt, thrice removed. I wanted to see if there was a family resemblance."

Oh no.

"PUNRIBBAGE!" James and Sirius crowed at the same time and thus solidified a nickname that followed me past school and through life as well as marked the beginnings of a long road of trouble with Sherlock Holmes and the Marauders.


End file.
